Attracting a balls-to-the-wall crowd of 20-somethings one block from the Williamsburg waterfront, Randolph Brooklyn’s scene is unassailable. The décor is essentially Applebee’s for hipsters; the walls covered in graffitied portraits of Elvis, Superman and Wonder Woman; a glass-paned garage door rolls open the street. Patrons pack into diner-style red booths and scrum at the shiny concrete bar with trophy beer pulls, bobbing their heads to Pat Benatar as they endure the long wait for a table.
While there are more than two dozen brews on tap—ranging from light witbiers to chestnutty stouts to tangy goses—this place is all about the $25 cocktail pitchers, and rightly so: The El Pepino Fresco (tequila, St. Germain, cucumber) is a lovely candied confection. Ditto the Cherry Berry, which tosses vodka with fruit juices like a spikedlime rickey.
To soak up the booze, order the hulking breakfast nachos crowned with baked eggs, or the crispy cheddar grits, savory squares of fried hominy served with zesty jalapeño dipping jelly. A dedicated grilled-cheese menu features thick sammies loaded with fillings either sweet, (blueberry-cheddar) or spicy (ranchero sauce with house-made tortilla chips). The Memphis Style arrives packed with both macaroni and cheese and barbecue pulled pork; paired with the side of classic tomato soup, it's a real Chef Boyardee flashback.
The waiters are clearly overtaxed, but they at least try to get it right. If you want to lose yourself in youthful energy and you’re fine with a brunch that causes—rather than cures—your hangover, Randolph Brooklyn is your joint.
BY: TIME OUT COMMUNITY REVIEWER WINNIE MCCROY